Metamorphosis
by DustfingerandXion
Summary: When Jack and the team take on a case, they think it'll be a simple clean-up and lock-up. But when someone close to them goes missing because of it, the team have to face their biggest nightmares to get them back. SLASH. Light Janto.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there guys! Just Dustfinger here writing this one. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood. ): Unfortunately, the BBC does. I do, however, own the plot and the OC. :33**

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"How close, Ianto?"

"75 yards. Still moving."

"How stable?"

"Not in a good way. He'll probably need treatment as soon as we get him clear."

A small snort from the backseats notified him that Owen was in fact paying every ounce of attention to their conversation.

"You have something to say, Owen?"

"No Jack, not really. I have a question though."

"Go on…" Jack turned in the passenger seat so he had a clear view of the talker.

"I was gonna ask Ianto who the hell he thinks he is. I'm the doctor, I dish treatment." He folded his arms, ending the conversation abruptly.

This time it was Gwen's turn to butt into the conversation. "Shut your face, Owen! Ianto knows what he's doing."

"I expect he knows full well what he's doing, but, if he could keep his nose in his own line of work, we'd all be happy. Besides, how many coffee-boys know about medicine?"

"Owen!"

"What? I just asked a question!"

"I agree with Gwen, that was rude."

"Don't you get involved, Tosh!"

"Jack, tell Owen to shut his face!"

"I'm not telling anyone anything! Sort it out yourselves!"

"Owen, shut your face!"

"QUIET! All of you!" The other passengers looked at Ianto in silent shock. They'd never heard him shout like that before. "You're all acting like a bunch of amateurs!" A blanket of silence covered the interior of the car. Ianto's face was that of grim determination: set jaws, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted as his breathing hitched. He tugged on the gearstick so fiercely that it almost came off in his hand.

"Err… Ianto?" Jack was the unlucky one to have to break the silence.

"What?" He growled, gripping the steering wheel until his fingers turned white.

"You went past the turning…"

Ianto turned the SUV in a fierce, two-wheeled u-turn and sped off back the way he had come.

"He's gone completely mad!" A jab in the ribs from Gwen made Owen suddenly stop his muttering.

*****

The SUV came to a sudden halt, jerking the passengers a few inches forward in their seats. No-one said anything as they piled out of the car.

"I'll be driving around the block. I'm on the com." Jack nodded and followed the rest of his team. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he sighed as he could just make out the back of the SUV around the corner.

The rest of the team seemed oblivious to Jack's down-cast sigh as they followed the tracking dot on Tosh's PDA.

"Well, that was nicely handled." Heads shot round to look at Jack.

"Next time, Owen, keep your mouth shut." Owen's mouth in question dropped open as he struggled to come up with some kind of witty response.

"Close your mouth, it's not attractive." Gwen and Tosh watched on, feeling ever more awkward. It was always awkward when Jack disciplined the team. It wasn't often that he shouted, he never threatened, he just looked and sounded disappointed. And that was possibly the worst.

"If you're all feeling grown up, follow the tracker." Without another word he strode off down the alleyway, not even glancing back at his team. Normally, Gwen would've said something to bite at Jack's conscience. But now seemed like a bad time. Jack was miffed, the situation tense. Every person present felt like now was one of those times that just getting the job done was the best option.

*****

"What are we even looking for?"

"A human hybrid, pretty much."

Gwen frowned, and was quickly mirrored by Tosh and Owen.

"Well, is he dangerous?"

"Gwen, you're a member of Torchwood. Of course he's dangerous." At the look on their faces, he quickly added, "But we have the upper-hand. He's only a kid. And he can't choose when to change form."

"Change form? What's his other form?" Tosh's voice rose slightly. Whether it was because of the sudden pick up in wind, or the fear of the situation, it was hard to tell.

"Wolf." His answer was followed by silence. Only to be broken again by the tapping, clicking and breathing of his team as they changed the cartridges of their guns. _The silence had always had to be broken. Never kept or treasured. Just broken as quickly as swiftly as it settled. Humans were always in such a rush_, Jack thought, _always determined to get where they needed to be. Never even think to admire the situation. _

"Don't shoot to kill."

"But, Jack, what if he tries to kill us?" Owen scoffed, rolling his shoulders, stretching his muscles.

"Shoot to disarm, not to kill."

"But-"

"No!" Jack snapped, quickly shooting Owen a glare over his shoulder.

"This is ridiculous. What if he kills one of us?"

"Owen, he's a kid. 16 tops. How guilty would you feel if you shot him?"

"I'm still not convinced."

"Suit yourself."

*****

A crash around the corner stopped the team in their tracks. Guns at the ready. Torches held down. Breathing hitched a notch. Jack glanced back at his team, gave a slight nod and gracefully jumped around the corner.

The torch above his pistol was weak, not giving off much light. But from what it did give off, he could see a dark, hunched figure. Not too old, he could tell that. Maybe mid-twenties. Was this what they were looking for, or their monster's victim? Disturbing noises interrupted his thoughts.

Coughing, rasping.

Silence.

Shuffle shuffle.

Jack took a step closer, his breathing steady.

The figure looked up and the sight made Jack take an involuntary step back. A strong feeling of disgust built up in the back of his throat. He had to fight not to vomit. This was the victim, not doubt about that.

He appeared to be missing most of his left arm, his abdomen was torn open, so just a fleshy mass of blood, muscle and organs was left. Jack swallowed heavily. A hand was clutching at the open wound. His tongue lolled out towards what was left of his chin. The jaw looked broken. It seemed the attacker had been interrupted in his feast.

He could've sworn the poor sod was trying to say something. But he couldn't be sure. It was all too much. He looked away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. The stench was foul. And that was when he noticed the creature stalking towards him from the shadows. They'd found the victim…

And here was their monster.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter! Whoop. Quite a bit shorter than the previous one. Sorry about that. Still just Dustfinger here. And I still don't own any of Torchwood. ): OC is still mine. **

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_[No. Please, no!] The boy struggled with his restraints, ignoring the burning feeling as they rubbed against his wrists. Animal testing had never really been his thing – he'd picked up toiletries with the 'against animal testing' symbol- but he'd never really thought it about it in depth. Now, he knew exactly what the animals went through. Now it was happening to him._

_He could see them. See them over there with their ridiculous white coats, their goggles and gloves. "You're all monsters!" His voice echoed around the room, higher pitched than what he was hoping for. None of them turned around. One had the cheek to laugh. "Let me go, goddamnit! Let me go!" He knew it was useless, no matter how much he hoped. They'd never let him go. They'd said to him 'he fit the bill perfectly'. What bill? What had he ever done to deserve this?! Like some ridiculous horror movie, they all turned around at the same time, one of them holding up a syringe. Squeezing the end lightly, the liquid inside spurted out._

_[How stereotypical.] He could've almost laughed._

_They approached slowly, almost cautiously. He gulped. This was a dream, surely? A horrid, disturbing dream. It had to be! This just didn't happen to people, did it? He closed his eyes tight, willing his conscience to wake up. To get him out of this godforsaken place. Nothing had changed when he opened his eyes. It was real._

_One held his arm steady, applying pressure so the vein stood out more prominently. Their grip was vice like, causing his pain. And no matter how hard he struggled, they just would not let go. [This is the end. My god. This is the fucking end!] Blinking back tears, he writhed around on the operating table. Useless. Everything he did was useless._

"_Monsters!"_

_One stood by his head, lay a hand gently on his forehead. "This won't hurt a bit. Just lay still and this will all be over soon. There's nothing to worry about." And then they broke the skin on his arm with the needle. The searing pain notified him that the substance was being injected into his bloodstream. His cries and screams filled the air. So horrifyingly helpless, even the white coat-clad men had to look away. [The pain. Christ, the pain! What have they done? What the hell have they done?! Shit! Screaming. Constant screaming in my head! When will it stop?!]_

"_What's happening?"_

"_Something's gone wrong."_

_The men were all in a dither, trying to set right what they had done. The boy was changing. Crunching bones. High-pitched screams. Fur began to sprout out of his blistered skin; jagged teeth forced their way out of his gums. Hands and feet mutated to paws, eyes turned an angry yellow. The sheer force of the change broke his restraints and the newly create monster rose to its four feet, growling, snarling and snapping his jaws. Time seemed to slow down as it shook it's shaggy fur, blood and spittle flying off in all directions. It slowly turned its head towards the one who had claimed it would all be okay. Snarling, it pounced._

_That was Ivan's first kill._

*****

Jack had a vague feeling that something extremely bad was going to happen. And usually when he had these feelings, he was right. The creature was slowly advancing and showed no signs of giving up it's approach. Shame really. He took an experimental step back, just to see what his options were. Fight or flight? The rest of the team were way off. Gwen was shouting at Owen about something, Tosh was staring at the transmitter screen, confused, and Ianto was off in the SUV.

Looking around had been an amazingly stupid idea. It had given the monster - who after having come into the radius of Jack's torch's feeble light, showed himself to be the wolf-boy they were looking for – the impression he was backing away from it. So, it took the advantage of Jack's attention being elsewhere, and lunged at him.

The blow knocked him clean off his feet and onto his back, and almost instantly, the monster went for his neck, jaws snapping loudly, saliva dripping onto Jack's chest. He had to fight for breath in his surprised, winded state, fight to keep the monster from his neck, and fight to keep the darn thing off his chest. It wasn't exactly very light.

_Shoot it! Shoot, damnit! _Holding the beast away from his throat with one hand and a ridiculously large amount of effort, Jack scrabbled around next to him for his gun. All his fingers found was the grubby concrete and the grit that coated it. The wolf continued to snap for his neck, forcing it's weight onto Jack's wrist. He gasped in pain as he heard it snap. The gasp twisted to a shout of pain when his wrist gave way and the beast fell forward, it's teeth narrowly missing his neck and tearing into his shoulder. He continued to search for his gun, feeling more and more short of breath as he fought and panicked.

His team. Surely his team would've noticed by now that he had a creature trying to tear his throat out? He braved another look to the side, trying with all the might he had left to shout out to them. Nothing. The beast was too heavy on his chest. His lungs couldn't get the air. His head was swimming, his vision out of focus.

"Great…" He managed to rasp before the beast lunged again, it's teeth finding it's target. Jack's scream of pain dwindled to silence as everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Whoop! Three chapters in one day. (: Still just Dustfinger. I still don't own Torchwood. ): But I do own the OC. Yay? XD**

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"He's waking up. Owen, he's waking up!" Ianto let out a soft sigh of relief as Jack slowly opened his eyes. Gwen had dashed off to go and find Owen – who seemed to have momentarily disappeared – leaving Ianto by Jack's side. Leaving him to cling onto his boss' hand. Praying the man would wake up.

Jack wouldn't leave him. No. Ianto had told himself that many times during the night. He'd got through so much more than this before. Jack wouldn't leave without saying goodbye at least, would he? He was better than that. That night had been so stressful. Almost on par with the last time they thought he'd been killed for good. A groan from Jack snapped Ianto straight out of his thoughts. Before he could really react, he was barged out of the ay by Owen as the doctor careered down the steps to Jack's side.

"Everything seems fine," Owen looked up at the Welshman, voice coated thickly in mockery. "Don't you worry your little cotton socks about him, Ianto." Ianto had to roll his eyes. The other possible option would be to hit him. Owen was always making jibes, but the man had learnt to roll his eyes and forget about it. "Y'know, some coffee would be nice." The doctor hinted, not as subtly as he thought.

"I'll go make some then." His voice was fairly void of emotion as he walked away to boil the kettle. He wanted to be by Jack. To let him know that while before he had been alone with the wolf when he most needed his team, Ianto was here now. Even when he didn't really need him. But he had no choice really. He'd only get in the way as Owen crashed around the medical bay.

Owen shone a torch in Jack's eye, making the man flinch away from the bright light. "Oh, stay still. It's just a torch!" The doctor tutted and shone the torch in his eyes again. This time, Jack stayed still, but made it very clear – if his expression was anything to go by – that he was not impressed.

"When you've quite finished blinding me."

"I saved your ass, thank you very much, Mister. Quit your whining."

"I don't plan on making a habit of needing you to." He attempted to sit up quickly, but Owen intervened quickly, pushing him back down onto the bed.

"Follow my finger." Slowly moving his left index finger from side to side, he frowned. "I'll leave you there next time then?"

Jack evaded the question quickly by asking his own. "Did you catch the damn thing?"

"Yes. Ianto locked the bugger in the cells." He shook his head faintly at the memory of how difficult it had been. It had quickly become clear that he was immune to their tranquilizers.

"Was he still in his wolf form?"

"No. He changed back to human form on the way here." Owen shuddered. "Trust me, it wasn't pretty."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. Imagine a wolf crashing around in your boot. Very loudly. Then everything going silent. Suddenly, the wolf's howling and whimpering. You can hear bones cracking and then he's screaming. And screaming and screaming." Owen grimaced. "I'll never forget that. Imprinted in my brain, that is."

"Huh."

"And," Owen pulled up his sleeve. "The bastard bloody bit me!" On his normally pale skin, Owen was harboring an angry red curve of very human-like teeth marks.

Jack frowned, taking hold of the doctor's arm and bringing it closer to his eyes. "You should probably keep an eye on that. Who knows what he's had his teeth round." He let Owen's arm drop.

"Yeah. 'Cause that instantly fills me with confidence. Thanks for that one."

"You're welcome. Just… watch it. In case it goes nasty."

Owen nodded quickly; turning away to bustle about with apparatus he'd left hanging around by his bed. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll take some blood samples and see what's pumping around in there."

Jack let out a small huff of breath as he got himself into a sitting position. His bones ached, his head pounded and the muscles in his arms, especially his left wrist, were sore from his earlier struggles.

"I'm not liking this at all, Owen." He murmured, gripping the side of his head in a stiff hand.

"I'm not saying it's been the best of days. It was meant to be a simple job, run in, stun him, and shove him in a cell and bam, problem solved. None of your having your throat torn out was meant to happen."

"You think I did it on purpose?"

"I'm not saying that either. I'm jus thinking, have we bitten off more than we can chew with this one? I mean, he's a kid, right? Easy. But when he gets pissed off, its like Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It's all a bit iffy, if you get what I mean?"

Jack said nothing and nodded slightly. He knew exactly what Owen meant.

*****

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Jack?"

"I'm a big boy now, Ianto; I think I can talk to our guest through the door."

"Okay," Ianto didn't sound convinced. "We're on the other end of the com if you need us."

"Thanks, Ianto." Jack put a comforting hand on his shoulder briefly, flashing him a small smile. Ianto left the cellblock in silence, his smart suit shoes clicking on the concrete floor as he walked. Jack watched him go before stepping up to the plastic door of the boy's cell.

"Hello, Jack." The boy's rasping voice cut through the silence like a knife, making Jack jump a little. He hadn't expected him to start the conversation.

"Am I supposed to say 'hello' back and pretend nothing happened? Pretend you didn't try to kill me?"

"Oh, boo hoo. Stop kidding yourself, Jack. We both know you'd have come back to life anyway." The more the boy talked, the more his accent became clearer. A brisk Irish accent. It was exactly hat Jack would have paired with him.

"I don't expect I would have if you'd torn me to pieces."

"Oh, I expect you would." The boy sounded smug. So smug that it made Jack feel as though he was in the dark about this. Did this boy know more about him?

"How do you know so much?" The boy did not answer; too preoccupied with gnawing at the hunk of meat Ianto had tossed him a few moments ago. _He looks starved, _Jack thought, _no wonder he attacked…_

He pulled a faintly disgusted face. The boy was not a clean eater. At all. He tore huge chunks off the bone, spraying blood around him as his head jerked; His fingers clung to the meat as though it was going to run away from him, the amount of pressure he was putting on the flesh pushed his fingers into it slightly; Blood dripped from his lips as he relished the fresh meat he had been denied for so long. It made Jack's stomach turn.

"What's your name?" No answer. The boy continued to eat. "Answer me! What's your name?" Still no answer. Although it appeared the boy had stopped eating, a rasping, choking noise came instead. It took a while for Jack to realize he was being laughed at.

"Poor little Jack. It's annoying when people choose to ignore you, isn't it? Poor you."

"As you seem to know my name, isn't it only fair that I know yours?"

"Fair? What do you know about fair?" The boy sprung toward the cell door, abandoning the meat. He crashed into the plastic with a loud _fwump. _Jack calmly took a step backwards. "Life isn't fair, Mr. Harkness! Surely you've realized that by now?" His voice rose. The sudden change of demeanour had Jack thinking. Was this kid completely in control of himself? "Surely you noticed that when He left you behind! Or are you choosing to ignore it? But you can't ignore it forever, Jack! It will catch up with you!"

What he said just backed up Jack's thoughts. How else would he know about the Doctor? How else would he know about the things Jack had kept so carefully hidden?

"He had his reasons."

The boy's explosion ended as soon as it came. His breathing was heavy, as if he'd run a long distance. He almost seemed to deflate. "Can't your hear it though, Jack?"

"Hear what?" Jack's eyebrows knitted together to form a frown.

The kid seemed to become almost desperate. He pressed his body against the plastic, dirty, bloody fingers poking through the holes in the door, gripping to what he could. His eyes widened and he seemed panicked. "Tell me you can hear it." He whispered. Jack had to step closer to fully catch what he was saying. "Can't you hear it?"

"What can you hear?" Jack placed his hand opposite to the boy's, his face creasing in faint concern when grubby fingers instantly scrabbled for his. For any kind of contact.

"Why can't you hear it?" His voice rose to a hiss, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Tell me what you can hear, and I can help you." Jack smiled faintly in encouragement. "Come on, what can you hear?"

The boy's voice dropped back to a whisper. "That voice. It's screaming in my head. Telling me things. It never stops screaming. It won't leave me alone!"

"What's it telling you?" That must be where he was getting that kind of information. If he wasn't just going slowly insane. If his need for contact was anything to go by, it seemed to Jack that he was a very isolated creature. No one cares for those who are different.

"I…I can't tell you." He shook his head violently, bottom lip trembling. "It'll kill me."

"Tell me your name then. Can you tell me that?"

"…I-Ivan." He gulped, his breath ragged, entwined with sobs he wouldn't let out.

We're going to help you, Ivan. Whatever it is, we'll help you. You just need to let us."


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